Regrets

H E R A

As we arrive at the house, my stomach churns with nerves. I refuse to let my father belittle me once more. The progress I've made in the past five years is too significant for him to make me feel inferior or undeserving just because I've become a mother.

Brent opens the back door and reaches for Addison, but I push his hand away.

"I'm just here to help. I'll show you to your room. I won't harm her," he assures me.

"I'll make sure you regret it if you do," I warn, staring straight into his eyes.

"I'll remember that," he replies calmly as he lifts Addison into his arms, and she snuggles against him.

Guilt gnaws at me. I sometimes wonder if the kids are missing out on having a decent man in their lives. Not necessarily a father, just someone who is good to be one.

Who would have thought even that would be hard to find?

I step out of the car next, pick up Aiden, and carry him on my hip. He's almost too heavy to lift, but I'll never stop trying.

As I climb the steps, memories flood my mind, the pleasant ones weighing me down. I dread crossing the threshold into this house.

The one person I thought would always support me turned his back on me. Even in death, I'm unsure if I can forgive him.

Brent opens the door, and as I enter, I'm taken aback by the lack of change. Time seems to have frozen. Everything is exactly as I remember it.

Except for the absence of my photos on the wall. He wasted no time removing those.

"Follow me. I'll show you to your room," Brent leads me down the hall and takes a left, heading towards a different room, not my old one.

Great. I don't want to see it.

As we enter the room, there's a huge bed in the center adorned with large pillows and a cozy comforter. Brent gently lays Addison down, and I do the same with Aiden. I tuck them in, giving each of them a sweet kiss.

"Mommy?" Addison mumbles sleepily. "Come back."

"Oh, I will. Don't worry. Go back to sleep, and I'll cuddle with you in a few minutes."

"Okay," she breathes out, falling asleep in an instant.

"Your pups are so precious. You've done a great job."

"I don't want to discuss my kids with you. I don't know what he's told you, but—"

"Nothing. He hasn't said a word. I don't know any details about your situation."

I nod, closing the door behind me. "My father kicked me out and sent me away because I got pregnant. I wasn't married. He called me a disappointment and completely cut me out of his life. That pretty much sums it up."

Brent swallows, clearly taken aback by my honest response.

"Where is he? I want to get this over with so I can move on."

"He's in his room. Bedridden."

“What’s wrong with his doctors? How about the healers?”

Brent shook his head. “Healers are long gone a few years ago after the wipeout. We couldn’t find one and for doctors, they’re trying their best but the Alpha refused to take medication further.”

I remained silent and carried myself up the stairs to his wing of the house. My hand glides along the railing, and tears threaten to fall again when I notice the space where my prom picture used to hang.

God, this hurts. I wish it didn't.

I thought it wouldn't matter when this moment arrived. I thought I had numbed myself to any feelings for my father, but I was mistaken.

His door is open, and as I step inside, the marble floors gleam. The window allows the beauty of the night to filter in, and at first glance, it seems like nothing has changed. But then I see my father lying in the middle of the bed. He's wearing an oxygen mask, and I can hear the faint hiss from the machine. He lost weight, his cheeks hollowed, and dark circles were etched under his eyes.

He gasps for breath, extending his hand towards me, but I don't reach out to take it. Sitting at the edge of the bed, I maintain my composure and ask, "What's ailing you?"

"Karma," he replies with a chuckle that transitions into a harsh cough. "Karkinos.”

Karkinos is a sickness for werewolves that has no cure. No magic could heal it. It will eat your system until you die.

“I deserve it for how I mistreated you."

"Let's not dwell on that, please,” I said.

"Are the kids with you?"

"You have no right to ask about them. Don't even try," I whisper, fighting back tears. "Why am I here?"

"I wanted to see you before I leave the world."

"Well, you've been dead to me for a long time. You don't have the privilege of meeting them after discarding them like they meant nothing, just like you did to me." I keep my voice steady. "Just because you're my father doesn't mean you're exempt from the consequences of your actions and the pain you've caused. Being my father doesn't automatically grant you forgiveness. I'm not sure if I can ever forgive you."

"That's alright. I'm glad you're here. That's... enough for me." He reaches for the nightstand and hands me an envelope. "This is for you, Aiden, and Addison." Seeing me surprised, he gave me a sorrowful smile. "I always kept tabs on you. I regret so much, Hera. I was angry and felt like I let you down, but I failed you the moment I sent you away. Time is running out. I want to give you something. I want to ensure you and your pups are taken care of, something I should have done years ago." Tears well up in his eyes, and I have to look away to compose myself. I can't break it down now.

Opening the envelope, I find a ten-million-dollar check and a set of keys that fall into my palm.

"These are for a bakery in town. It's all set up. It just needs a name. It's right next to your friend, Keia’s coffee shop."

"That's going to be an interesting situation to handle," I mutter.

"I apologize for that," he states. "I apologize for many things."

"You actually got me a shop? You can't just buy your way into my life." I dab at my undereye as a tear escapes.

"Your rent is clearly stated in the contract. I knew you wouldn't agree unless you earned it yourself. I want you to be taken care of. Is there a man in your life? Someone to look out for you?"

"No. It's just me. I don't have time for men. The twins are my priority. And I don't want to discuss my dating life." I gaze at the contract, feeling a mix of excitement and resentment knowing it's another attempt by my father to win me over.

I'll finally have my bakery, and I'll make monthly payments to him.

"How much time do you have left?" I inquire, stashing the check and keys away.

"Weeks. Months. It's uncertain."

I don't know why I say this, but I do.

"Perhaps, I might let you meet them. I need to think about it, Dad. You really hurt me."

"I understand. And I know I don't deserve to meet them."

I aspire to be better than how he treated me when I needed him. It doesn't mean I forgive him, but maybe I can find compassion even in my anger.

"I have something to confess. You're the only one I'll tell. My fortune, Hera. You're the only one I'll share it with, but my enemies will come, and they'll want it."

"No, please. I don't want to know."

"I want you to." He straightens up with a sigh and whispers in my ear the whereabouts of hundreds of millions of dollars. "It's enough to provide for you, your children, your children's children, and so forth. If you ever decide you want it."

I'm unsure if I do. It's tainted money. I'm still so furious at him for everything; the idea of accepting even a penny fills me with guilt for all the promises I've made to myself.

I vowed I'd never rely on my father again, which only adds to my inner conflict.

Anger is not easily forgotten, but if I can't rise above the rage, I'm no different from him.